The Way You Looked at Me
by omgitskee
Summary: It's only a week before WSS opens, and Quinn is perfecting her dance moves. But when director Artie Abrams comes in with intentions to boost her confidence, the tables end up being turned. Quartie fluff. The true meaning behind that line. Oneshot.


_** Author's note: Hey, all. This is my first Quartie fic. They are my OTP of all OTPs, so I hope you enjoy. There will probably be more to come. **_

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><p>Quinn stood alone on the stage, onlooking at least five hundred empty seats. They would be filled in a week's time, and she was still trying to perfect her dance moves for opening night. Bless her blonde hair. If she had been cast as a Shark instead of a Jet, she'd have probably killed herself trying to get each move perfect. The cheerios were different- just dancing and stunts. And glee club? Yeah, singing and dancing at the same time, it was kind of pushing it, but she survived. But this whole musical business? It was something else. Being in character, dancing, singing, acting all at once…it was tougher than she expected. When her legs were perfect, her voice was flat. When her voice was perfect, her expression was off. When her face was perfect, her legs were all over the place.<p>

"Working hard or hardly working?" she heard from backstage. Quinn turned her head, slightly embarrassed, slightly curious as to who was spying on her private self-taught dance lesson. At first the voice had no face, but then when she saw a set of wheels, she knew.

"Oh, Artie." she puffed, out of breath. "I'm obviously slacking off big-time." she smirked sarcastically, taking a seat at the edge of the stage. From behind she could hear Artie's wheelchair rolling up beside her.

Artie held out his hand to her. Reluctant, Quinn took it. He then lifted his body out of his chair and onto the floor of the stage, right beside her. His legs dangled over the edge while hers were crossed and knocking against the orchestra pit.

Artie raised an eyebrow to her. "You looked flawless." he remarked. Quinn laughed out loud, because she knew he was lying. "I'm serious!" he chuckled back. Quinn nodded her head.

"Sure. Thanks." she sighed. "Mike's been helping me…a lot. He's a real help when it comes to these things."

She saw Artie give a small, half-hearted nod. "Right." he said with a twinge of sadness in his voice. Quinn knew that he felt like he'd failed them as a director. He couldn't be the one helping them with their choreography.

Quinn didn't want him feeling like that- he was…well, he was the perfect director. Firm but fair, intent on making the production live up to its full potential. She could tell that he had found his calling with this directing business. Quinn scooted herself closer to Artie- so close, in fact, that their feet were now touching. She grabbed his hand, and his face lifted up to look her in the eye. His eyes were a piercing blue. She had never noticed, before. Quinn was suddenly taken aback by their eye contact, and had to break their hold. After a few seconds, she raised her eyes to speak to him again.

"You are the best director this high school has ever seen. Choreography is the choreographer's job. Taking charge, making production-altering decisions, putting Rachel in her place when she needs it the most," Quinn gave a chuckle, and mustered one out of Artie, too. "…That's what a director does. And a damn good one, at that." She touched their foreheads together, and gave him a look. A look of pure admiration and respect. It felt like it lasted for hours, though Quinn knew it only lasted a second. After which, she stood back up. With all that was going on with her, and Beth, and Puck, and Shelby…Quinn had lost sight of herself. It was nice to give a boy with little confidence the pep talk of his life. Especially when this boy was Artie Abrams.

Artie looked up at her, smirking. "You really know what to say and when to say it." he remarked. Unprovoked, Quinn took the initiative and helped Artie back into his wheelchair. "You look like you've been practicing for hours." he commented on her disheveled appearance. Quinn ran a hand through her hair and gave a shrug.

"Kind of?" she muttered. Without warning, Artie smirked and rammed his chair forward, into Quinn's legs, making her knees give way. He caught her in his lap and smiled, suavely, confidently. Quinn let out a puff of air as she put her arms around his neck. Where had he learned how to literally sweep a girl off of her feet like that?

Artie pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Come on. Let's go get a slushie or something." He rode off backstage, Quinn in his lap, and the biggest of smiles on his face.


End file.
